


Could Be the End

by wonderlandiscrumbling



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Blood, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mild Gore, Near Death, eye loss, season five
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-04-10
Packaged: 2020-01-06 06:18:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18382691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wonderlandiscrumbling/pseuds/wonderlandiscrumbling
Summary: The pain he feels when the bullet pierces his eye is blinding and hot, it's almost the only thing he can focus on other than just how scared Ed seems to be.





	1. Chapter 1

Intense white-hot pain shoots through his head like a bullet, like the bullet that currently is lodged in his head, in his eye more specifically. There’s this instinctual urge to blink, to get out what shouldn’t be there. He stumbles backwards, his knees buckle, and he falls backwards hitting the ground, he hears gunshots and screaming, the screaming he realizes is his own, pained near shrieking. He reaches up to touch his eye, he feels the hot stickiness of blood, he touches tries to feel the bullet, there’s this sudden fear that it’s too deep, that maybe he’s dying. 

He feels somebody grab him pulling him back, he wants to move, wants to get up. He tilts his head back and sees Ed, he looks horrified. Through the pain he tries to remember, tries to think if he’s seen Ed scared like this before, scared over him. He finds himself fighting it when Ed grabs his wrist to pull his hand away from his face, his grip is strong, bruising, he’s panicking because even he doesn’t know if the bullet is too deep. Oswald drops his hand back to the ground, he clenches his fists and his screaming has stopped, his throat is raw, and it hurts. He feels that same exhaustion he’d felt on the docks, screaming until there was absolutely nothing left inside him. 

Ed’s touching his face, he’s leaning in closer trying to see if he can get a glimpse of the object lodged in his eye, he can’t. 

He feels exhausted, he tries to tell him this, but only manages to mutter out “I can’t”

He isn’t entirely possible this is the way that he wanted to die, one typically wants to die of old age from natural causes, but he knows from his mother and father and grandfather that that just isn’t an option for his family. He laughs weakly realizing it’s like a curse, somebody long ago did something bad, and now the whole bloodline is tainted.

Ed grips him under his arms, tries to get him up off the ground. They need to get away from here, get to some place safe. Oswald struggles to stay conscious for him, he knows that dead weight, dead bodies are damn near impossible to carry especially when there’s shooting all around. He attempts to stand, manages, his legs shake, and he can feel blood running down his face, he reaches up to touch at his jaw when he pulls his hand away, he sees blood. Ed has his arm wrapped around his waist, he keeps him pressed firmly against his side and he can hear him mumbling to himself. Ed’s scared and that’s new to him, it’s nice to know he can be scared, but there’s something also unsettling about seeing him scared when normally he can keep some level of calm about himself. He should know the answer, should know if the bullet can be extracted easily, if it’s a mere inch from piercing his brain and would need to be removed in a more sterilized environment by somebody with more surgical knowledge than either Ed or Lee.

The sounds of shots and screams grow distant the further away they get from it all, he can hardly hear anything really. He rests his head on Ed’s shoulder, he wants to close his eyes and sleep just for a moment. 

When they reach Ed’s car, he opens the passenger door and carefully works to get him inside. It’s nice to be sitting, to be in a car where there’s at least the illusion of safety for the mean time. Ed gets in on the other side, his hands are shaking, he looks scared still. He curses to himself as he tries to get the key in the ignition, it takes two failed attempts before he finally gets it in. He’s trying to focus on tasks, on starting the car, on pulling away from their miniature war zone and some place safe, perhaps to the clinic or at least what is left of it if anything at all. 

Oswald reaches out to touch his arm, he opens his mouth to say something to him. He doesn’t know what, to thank him for at least trying to save his life, to falsely assure him things are fine when they most probably aren’t. Ed’s looking at him again and this time he realizes he’s crying; he can’t remember if he’s seen him cry before. He’s seen him on the verge of crying, multiple times, but full commitment to the act of crying is new. He doesn’t even have to look at himself to know he looks like a mangled corpse right now; he knows Ed’s crying because this doesn’t look like it’ll go well. He feels annoyed that he can’t get himself to speak, he closes his mouth again and swallows, the pain is nearly gone now. He doesn’t feel much of anything now, it’s a relief as much as it is scary. If he’s dying, he wants to tell him something, thank him for trying to save his life, give one more feeble pathetic attempt to let him know that after everything he’s still in love with him even if he knows that maybe Ed can’t feel that way about him.

Ed takes hold of his hand holding it tightly, it’s a small comfort of sorts for them both.


	2. Chapter 2

Oswald’s unconscious by the time they reach City Hall. In the distance there’s the sound of bangs and explosions, the sky is darkened and filled with black smoke. There’s this ominous feeling hanging over them, hanging over this city screaming ‘this is it, this is how it ends.’

It’s a struggle for Ed to gather Oswald up and carry him out of the car, but he manages. His legs feel weak, he’s sweating by the time they enter the building. He gently lays him down on the black leather sofa then begins frantically searching for medical supplies that he knows are kept on hand because Oswald is always being shot or stabbed. He thinks about just how close they had come to leaving this place, to getting in that submarine and never seeing this place again. He isn’t sure right now if he’s more pissed at himself or at Oswald for this situation, he should have just grabbed him and dragged him into the submarine, made him leave even if it would have resulted in Oswald not ever wanting to talk to him again. He could have let him walk away; he didn’t have to make a show out of this. 

He finds a set of forceps, gauze, alcohol, and medical tape. He gathers the items and returns to his friend who is still unconscious. His skin looks waxy and pale, he’s sweating, shivering, and it’s the first time they really met all over again. He wouldn’t have thought the night he found him bleeding out in the woods that they would be here five years later, Oswald once more shot, bleeding out, and Ed saving his life or at least attempting to.

‘Think with your heart not your brain.’

He laughs to himself, it’s a ridiculous way to live life. “What good has it done either of us, huh?” He asks and expects no reply.

He seats himself on a chair next to the couch, he tilts his head to face him needing to get a better look at his face. Blood is splattered over half his face; the bullet practically caused his eye to explode. Ed swallows hard as he picks up the forceps, he’s cautious as he pushes them through the clots of drying blood and flesh until he hears the light clink of metal. He worries his bottom lip with his teeth as he grips the bullet with the forceps and slowly extracts it. Oswald’s eye twitches, he winces in pain, body tensing, but he doesn’t wake up. Ed’s grateful for that, his pained screams are still playing in his head on an endless loop. He drops the bullet onto a nearby table then moves onto the easier parts of cleaning the wound.

Ed hums to himself as he works, it keeps him calm and focused as he covers the gaping hole where an eye used to be with bandage and gauze. Once he’s finished, he pets his fingers through Oswald’s hair, he closely watches the rise and fall of his chest, he moves his hand to his chest leaving it to rest there. He’s breathing, his heart is beating, and sooner or later Ed knows he’s going to wake up. 

“I don’t want to be in love with you.” He says.

He wants to believe he can make a feeling go away, that if he wills it away, makes actual lists of the reasons why he shouldn’t love him then it’ll be over, and they can move on. Realistically he knows love doesn’t work that way, the heart wants what the heart wants, and it’ll drive you crazy until you pursue what it desires. He knows this from experience and from knowing Oswald, he knows how gut-wrenching love is especially in this moment worrying he might never get to say those words to him.


	3. Chapter 3

It doesn’t come as much of a surprise to him when the first thing Oswald does upon waking up is try to get up. He doesn’t even bother with telling him to sit back down, reminding him that he just lost an eye and a good amount of blood, the last thing he needs to be doing is getting up and moving around. Blood is already seeping through the bandage over his eye, dripping down his cheek like rain, he’s shaking, teeth gritting from the pure pain he’s feeling as he forces himself to his feet. He takes two unsteady steps forward before his knees buckle and he collapses. Ed’s quick to grab him and sit him back down on the couch.

“I wouldn’t recommend moving.” 

“We have to go back out there; I have to go back out there. I’m not hiding here.” He argues, there’s a deep embedded anger burning in his eye.

“You nearly died, just take a break.”

He wants to tell him many things, but the words scare him, and they catch in his throat. Being openly emotional never seems to do people much good, Oswald is a constant seething ball of rage and love and tragedy. Ed doesn’t know how he does it, why he puts himself through the torment of it all. He himself contemplated killing himself more times than he’d like to really admit to all because of the pain and the loss that comes with caring. 

“The key word is nearly, I’m fine.” He presses, argues. He moves to get up again, Ed places his hand against his chest pushing him back against the couch. He ignores the way his friend is glaring at him; he’s grown long accustomed to pissing him off.

“No you’re not, you aren’t fine and I….I can’t go back out there with you and see you die.”

There’s this second of silence as Oswald looks at him as if he’s changing his mind, realizing it isn’t a grand sacrifice if he dies in this city, the city won’t remember or care. They won’t be grateful that Penguin died protecting them, Ed wants to scream this at him, but it would never do any good. Oswald sees himself as a savior in some way, he’d die here just like his parents had.

“Nobody is making you stay; you can still leave. Either way I’m going back out there.”

“I’m only here because of you, God I should have known you never actually planned on leaving.” He says laughing to himself, Oswald’s glaring at him. He knows he’s angry. “This is why I can’t ever tell you that I love you.” He says gesturing towards the bloody bandage over where his eye once was. “I don’t want to be with you and pretend everything is fine only for you to go out there and get killed, even if it isn’t today…. You can’t promise me you won’t get killed someday; we both know it’ll happen. I’m not like you, I can’t cope with that.” There’s a desperation in his voice, a plea to be understood.

He isn’t strong that way, he can’t suffer a loss and keep on going with his life.

Oswald relaxes, he leans back against the couch still staring at him. “So now what?”

It’s a good question, it’s one he can’t answer, and he hates that. 

Silence falls over them, it’s only broken by the tapping of claws against the floor. The dog that bears Ed’s name comes into the room, stubby tail wagging as it pushes its front paws against Oswald’s legs looking up at its owner with what might be concern. 

Ed reaches to grab the dog and pull it away, “Come on not now.” He chastises.

Oswald swats his hands away and lifts the dog up onto his lap holding it close like a child would hold a cherished stuffed toy. “Don’t be mean to Edward, he’s just worried because he knows his daddy got hurt.” 

He nearly cringes at the soft way he speaks to the dog and hearing his own name and daddy put into the same sentence.

“I’m not overly fond of you naming your dog after me or referring to yourself as daddy.” 

Oswald smirks looking up at him, “You should be honored I named him after you, besides I wouldn’t have gotten a dog if you’d just come back home.”

It’s a fair enough point. “Oswald when….When this is over, if by some miracle we both live through this….I’m willing to give us a chance.”

“Do you mean that?”

“I wouldn’t lie about that, I know…I know how important this is to you, just please promise me you’ll be careful when we go back out there.”

It’s a stupid thing to make somebody promise, there is no way to fight a war and stay safe. The second they enter that danger zone again they are at risk of dying.

“I’ll try.” There is no promise because it would be a blatant lie, Ed can tell by looking at him that he wants to tell him that he loves him. 

Even in silence the words are there and it scares them both, there’s a open wound vulnerability with speaking those words throwing that heavy emotion into existence. They both wish to just be normal people who can love openly, say that word freely without waiting for disaster to follow.

Ed reaches out taking hold of his hand, he can’t tell him he loves him, not right now. He promises to himself though he’ll tell him if they make it out of this alive.


End file.
